


if this body's a temple, let us defile it

by joltik



Series: the divine & the profane [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Crimson Flower, F/F, Porn with Feelings, Post-Timeskip | War Phase (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Pre-Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, no beta we die like Glenn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2020-12-28 06:36:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21132275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joltik/pseuds/joltik
Summary: (There was an old church in Enbarr that Edelgard was taken to occasionally as a child, and inside, there was a large, exquisite,pristinestatue of the goddess. She remembers being told that no one was allowed to touch the statue except to clean it, because the statue needed to stay perfect, unblemished, just as the goddess was.When she was a little older, this was one of the first things that made her realize the goddess couldn’t be real.)--When Edelgard learns the full story of what happened to Byleth's appearance five years ago, she isn't quite sure how to feel.





	if this body's a temple, let us defile it

**Author's Note:**

> a couple of things to note:
> 
> -this isn't angst, but it's not exactly a happy fic, either. there's a lot of feelings here, many of which go unspoken because neither of these ladies are particularly good at communicating. they'll get there eventually, probably  
-this is written from edelgard's pov. edelgard is unquestionably my favorite character in the game and i love her dearly, but i also wrote this very much with her moral complexity in mind, and i don't necessarily agree with or endorse everything she ends up thinking over the course of the fic. edelgard has Opinions regarding religion, which i think are relatable if you have a certain kind of religious trauma <s>(what's the point of writing fe3h fic if you aren't projecting your own religious trauma onto the characters)</s> but that...aren't necessarily fair or accurate in context  
-with that in mind, if you're not already on board for Lady Edelgard's Wild Ride, this probably isn't going to change your mind. if you are, however, enjoy the food

“You know...” Edelgard begins, trailing off as she glances over the rim of her teacup at her former professor. They are seated in Byleth’s room, the day’s weather being too inclement to have their daily teatime in the monastery courtyard per their usual routine.

(Her heart beats just a little bit faster at being here alone with her former professor, but that is her business and hers alone, and she knows better than to delude herself to think anything would come of it.)

The room is silent, save for the faint drumming of the rain outside, as Edelgard gathers her thoughts, studying Byleth’s appearance (those unnaturally green eyes, that inhuman hair) under the low, flickering light given off by the oil lamps Byleth lit as they entered the room. “You never did explain exactly what happened that time when your appearance changed all those years ago, my teacher. I believe...what was it? You said something about being blessed by the goddess?”

“Hm?” the professor says vaguely, taking a sip of her tea. “I believe it was something like that, yes.”

“What did you...What did you mean by that?” Edelgard says, knitting her brow.

Byleth looks oddly thoughtful. “To be honest, I don’t think you’d believe me if I told you. Or that you’d like the answer.”

Edelgard raises an eyebrow. “That just makes me all the more curious, and frankly, also somewhat concerned.”

Byleth is silent for a long moment, and Edelgard doesn’t know how to read her expression as she looks at her. “Edelgard,” she finally says, setting down her teacup. ”What do you really think about Sothis? About the goddess?”

“...Pardon?” she says, a little thrown by the question.

“Humor me, please. I already know how you feel about the Church, and I agree, but...the goddess herself is a different matter.”

“You ask  _ me _ for my opinion on the goddess,” she says with a sigh. “If I’m to be honest...I believe that there is a very good chance there exists, or once existed, a being by the name of Sothis, yes. Undoubtedly a quite powerful one, likely the same manner of creature as the Immaculate One. But not a goddess.”

“I’m in agreement with you, I think,” Byleth says with a nod, and Edelgard stares at her. “But I know for a fact that Sothis is real.”

“...Do tell.”

“I used to dream about a girl. A strange one, with green hair and pointed ears. Eventually, they stopped being just dreams—she talked to me when I was awake, too. Around the time I met you.”

“And these weren’t...hallucinations?”

She shakes her head. “No, she…” Byleth looks as if she’s about to say something, then shakes her head again. “You definitely don’t believe me, but I had reason to believe she was real. And then…” She scrunches up her brow in thought.

“...and then Solon,” Byleth continues. “When he trapped me, trapped  _ us _ , in that place...I...Sothis merged with me? We became one being, and my appearance was...what you see before you,” she says, gesturing to her hair and face.

“I...hm,” Edelgard says, setting down her own teacup and feeling herself frowning.

“You don’t believe me,” her teacher says, smiling ruefully.

“I  _ want _ to believe you. But it’s...quite a lot to take in.”

Byleth nods, then goes silent for a while. When she finally speaks, she’s gazing off into the distance. “I think...Rhea did something to me.”

“Rhea?” Edelgard says, a brow raised.

“When I was born.”

“You were…” Both her eyebrows are raised now.

“I was born at the monastery. Jeralt’s diary said so.”

“And you believe Rhea somehow...bound you to this girl? Who you believe was Sothis?”

“She was definitely Sothis,” Byleth says, shaking her head. “That was what she said her name was, before I knew anything about the goddess.

“You always were strangely clueless when it came to matters concerning the Church,” Edelgard says with a tinge of fondness. “Okay. As unbelievable as all of this may be, you are...certainly quite earnest about it, as ever. So I suppose my next question would be...supposing that all of this is true, what are your feelings on the matter?”

Byleth is again silent for a while. “I didn’t mind being attached to Sothis, really. She was strange, but I liked her, and she helped me out many times. I don’t know if she was a goddess, and it never felt like she was one, but she also...I don’t know how she felt about the Church, or Rhea. She didn’t approve of some of the stuff Rhea did.

“Sometimes, I wonder if she’d approve of what we’re doing now.”

“Professor…” Edelgard feels her heart pounding, suddenly anxious. If Byleth changes her mind...if she ends up regretting this, when they’ve come so far… “If you’re having second thoughts…”

“No,” Byleth says, looking her dead in the eye. “Never.” This time, it’s the conviction in her tone that has Edelgard’s heart racing. “The thing that bothers me is...whatever Rhea did to me. Not knowing what Rhea did to me.” The silence feels somewhat charged now, like the weight of the storm outside has somehow infiltrated the air inside, as Byleth gathers her thoughts. “You know,” she finally says. “I don’t have a heartbeat.”

“You don’t...what?”

“I don’t have a heartbeat,” she says again, nodding for emphasis before glancing down at her chest. “I never have.”

“That...should be impossible,” Edelgard says, her fingers worrying at the handle of the teacup in front of her. “Although so many things about you defy all expectations.”

“It’s true,” Byleth says, nodding again. “Come here, I’ll show you.”

The room is silent except for the rain and Edelgard’s thudding heartbeat, which feels louder than the rain at this point. “You want me...to listen to your heartbeat? Or lack thereof?”

“Sure,” she says, and against all logic, Edelgard complies, moving from the one chair in the room to sit next to Byleth on the bed and placing an ear against Byleth’s chest. She has a bone-deep awareness of the impropriety of the situation, although she’s equally sure that Byleth is oblivious, but sure enough, there is an unnatural silence in Byleth’s chest.

“I—I see,” Edelgard says, pulling herself away, although she remains seated on the bed. “It would seem likely that she did something to your heart, then.”

“I have a scar, if you would like to see,” Byleth says, and Edelgard is struck immediately by both the implications of the offer and her nonchalance in making it.

“I—that’s…” Edelgard swallows, her tongue feeling heavy in her mouth, her face warm. “If you want to, I suppose.”

This is an unwise course of action. Edelgard knows this. She cannot allow herself to believe that Byleth means anything by this, or that anything will come of it. Even so, she cannot help but watch with rapt attention as Byleth removes her shirt in front of her.

She is...remarkably beautiful. Edelgard tries to avoid staring too much at her breasts, specifically, although they do very much draw her attention. As promised, though, there is a jagged scar running down the center of her chest. “Oh…” she says, impulsively lifting a hand to trace it before her brain catches up and she pulls away, flushing. “Sorry...that was highly inappropriate of me,” she says, averting her eyes.

“No...it’s fine, El,” Byleth says, gently pressing her hand to Edelgard’s chin and guiding her to look at her again. Edelgard’s heart stutters at the nickname, and while she is truly happy to hear her saying it, a part of her rues saying they were like family, when really what she wanted...what she wants...is—

“I suspect...whatever Rhea did to you was crest related,” Edelgard says, her brow knit in thought, putting aside her feelings for now. “Given that crest implantation is most effective at the heart, and given your crest. Although why that would grant you...such a connection to the goddess is another matter entirely.”

“Crest implantation…”

“Yes. I also…” Edelgard’s fingers tremble, her cheeks flushed, as she begins unbuttoning the bodice of her dress, forcing herself to act before her brain can catch up to what she’s doing. Unlike Byleth, she remains mostly clothed, but she leaves it scandalously open, showing the network of scars running between and over the tops of her breasts. “It’s...rather more dramatic than yours, due to the experimental nature of what was done to me. This isn’t the only scarring they left on me, but it is the worst of it.”

Byleth gazes at her thoughtfully for a moment, before beginning to trace her scars almost reverently.with her fingers—across the end of the scars on her right breast to the end of the ones on her left breast, then down to the ones between, all while looking at her with a heat in her gaze that Edelgard hasn’t seen before. “El...thank you,” she says, and the air feels charged between them, like something has imperceptibly changed.

“My teacher,” Edelgard says hesitantly, cautiously, running her fingers along Byleth’s jaw and trying to convince herself that this is real. “May I…” And before she can put words to her desires, Byleth is kissing her. 

Being kissed by her former teacher feels at once exactly like she always imagined and yet totally different—her lips are soft, warm, gentle against hers, but the part that takes her by surprise, the thing that makes her heart clench in her chest, is how  _ real _ she feels against her. Edelgard weighs her hesitation, her inexperience, her anxiety, against the strength of her desire, before deciding  _ to hell with it _ and taking the initiative to deepen the kiss. It’s clumsy, awkward,  _ heated _ , and she takes some reassurance that Byleth doesn’t seem to have all that much more experience than her.

They’re like this for a while, familiarizing themselves with each other’s mouths, kissing until they’ve just about forgotten how to breathe, pausing for a moment and starting again. Byleth’s hands move from her shoulders to around her waist to one of the remaining buttons on her bodice, and Edelgard pulls away with a breathless “Wait.”

Byleth immediately jerks away as if burned, saying, “Sorry—I thought—Sorry,” her expression contrite. “I just assumed…”

“No, that’s…” Edelgard feels herself flushing. “I want to. I just...would prefer to take care of you first.”

“Oh,” Byleth says, and for the first time since she’s known her, Edelgard sees her former teacher blush. “Okay.”

“...That being said...” Edelgard says, looking away from Byleth somewhat ruefully, “I suppose I would appreciate your help with disrobing, if you don’t mind.” It had occurred to her shortly after stopping her what an ordeal it would be putting on or removing her regalia unaided, and what a hassle it would be to continue to wear in this context. “...Just that, however.”

“...Sure.” It takes some time, but Byleth helps her out of her complex layers of clothing, with her occasional guidance in finding the various clasps and buttons, and Edelgard uses the time to undo her hair. Eventually, Byleth pulls away, leaving Edelgard in just her undergarments and opaque stockings, with her hair swept around her like a veil. “El...you’re beautiful,” Byleth says, caressing her cheek reverently.

“...Not so much as you, my teacher,” Edelgard says, avoiding eye contact. Instead, she points her gaze downward as she reaches shaking fingers behind Byleth’s back, unclasping her underclothes to free the other woman’s breasts. This, as she could have predicted, ends up being...distracting. “Sorry, give me a moment...I’m feeling. Somewhat overwhelmed,” she says, her voice bright with embarrassment.

“Sorry, we can stop if you’re—“

“ _ No. _ No. It’s not...it’s just. These.”

“Oh.  _ Oh _ ,” Byleth says, the surprise clear in her voice. “Are they really that…overwhelming?”

“ _ Yes. _ ”

“Do you…” Byleth says, and Edelgard is absolutely floored to see her looking flustered, “Do you want to. Touch them?”

“...I do, yes.” By this point, Edelgard is also feeling quite flustered, but she tentatively presses her hand against the curve of Byleth’s right breast. It’s soft—she’s surprised by how soft Byleth’s skin is—and it proves to be quite pliant when she gives it a gentle, experimental squeeze. She traces a finger around the nipple, looping around it loosely and tentatively at first before building up the confidence to take it directly between her thumb and forefinger; gently, she coaxes it to full hardness, feeling a sense of awe as she takes in the way Byleth shudders at her touch. She then does the same for the other breast, kissing Byleth until she’s gasping into her mouth. Edelgard then dips down, going for her jaw, her neck, her collarbone—kissing at first, then nipping, sucking, biting—not to hurt, never to hurt, but she’s suddenly intent on leaving marks, as many as she can.

She stops, abruptly, when Byleth flinches, jerking away with a sudden sense of guilt. “My apologies, my teacher, if you don’t like that I’ll—”

“No—it’s fine, um.” Byleth says, flushed. “You can...keep doing that, if you want.”

“You—”

“I liked it. I just...wasn’t expecting it.” She chuckles a little, voice a mix of fond, embarrassed, aroused. “I guess I should’ve, though. You’ve always been fierce.”

It isn’t really about fierceness, Edelgard thinks as she sucks a hickey on the upper portion of Byleth’s breast. What she wants—

(There was an old church in Enbarr that Edelgard was taken to occasionally as a child, and inside, there was a large, exquisite,  _ pristine _ statue of the goddess. She remembers being told that no one was allowed to touch the statue except to clean it, because the statue needed to stay perfect, unblemished, just as the goddess was.

When she was a little older, this was one of the first things that made her realize the goddess couldn’t be real.)

“Could you...take off the rest of your clothes, my teacher?”

Byleth looks up at her, looking a little dazed, but she nods, pulling herself up and starting to disrobe. Edelgard watches on, swallowing thickly. When she’s done, Edelgard moves to her; she places a hand on her hip and murmurs, “You really are beautiful,” tracing her way to Byleth’s inner thigh. “Is this…”

“Please.”

“All right.”

“How do you want me?” Byleth says, her voice husky, her eyes lidded, as Edelgard’s fingers graze higher, between her legs.

“...Could you lie on your back for me?” Edelgard says, and Byleth complies. The bed is small (and Edelgard wishes, on some level, that this was happening in her bed at the palace in Enbarr, not here in the cramped dormitories of Garreg Mach, but she can’t be too greedy when she really couldn’t have imagined this happening at all), but with Byleth’s legs bent at the knee, Edelgard manages to squeeze herself in at the end of the bed. With Byleth’s legs open before her, the view is beautiful, obscene, and beyond her wildest fantasies. She swallows.

Edelgard leans in, ghosts her fingers over Byleth’s folds. Even just a faint touch gets a hitch out of Byleth’s breath, causing her to suck in a breath as well. She traces over her, feels how wet she is already, and gently, she starts to probe her open with a finger. For a while, she just explores her, opens her, watches how she reacts to her movements. As she does so, she idly traces her thumb lightly over the outer lips, earning a soft sound from Byleth.

Emboldened, she adds a second finger, opening her further—slowly at first, then picking up the pace. She keeps opening her, keeps playing with her, keeps  _ fucking  _ her, faster, rougher, harder. She’s relentless in this, as she is in so many things, trying to hit Byleth’s pleasure points again and again. She sees, hears,  _ feels _ Byleth come apart with a shout, shuddering against her, and in that moment, she feels so many things—passion, of course, but also adoration for the woman beneath her, and also cold fury at Rhea for whatever she’s done to her—fury redirected from the fury she’d already felt for what she had experienced, but to think of Byleth experiencing anything even remotely similar... 

And she longs for so many things, but her most of all—she wants  _ her _ , and she wants to be hers; she wants to break her apart, and she wants to make her anew. And she wants...to be with her, to be by her side, always. Silly things, things that...make no sense, really. The silly desires of a silly girl.

She feels Byleth coming down. Even so, she keeps moving. Byleth lets out a ragged moan, and Edelgard asks, “Is this...Are you okay with this, my teacher?”

Byleth nods shakily, her hands bunched up in the sheets beneath her. “Please.”

And so she continues, her fingers curving upward inside of Byleth, pistoning in and out and in again. It’s an obscene display, Byleth bent almost double on the bed, her legs swung over Edelgard’s shoulders, as Edelgard leans in and bites the junction of neck and collarbone while the fingers of her other hand work over Byleth’s clit. But the most obscene things are the noises—the rhythmic wet sounds, the increasingly broken moans as Byleth draws closer and closer, again. Edelgard feels a surge of  _ something _ in her chest as she looks into the eyes of divinity and makes her come apart.

This is the realm of humans, not of gods, and if she can bring her down to earth, then...

It’s silent for a long moment as Byleth pulls herself back together. “El,” Byleth says, looking at her with an expression that she cannot place—a part of her, locked away deep inside her heart, wants to believe it’s love. And yet she knows she can’t. She still can barely believe that this isn’t a dream, let alone that...that Byleth returns her feelings.

“By—my teacher… Thank you,” she says, her voice faint. She’s unable to look her in the eye, in this moment.

Outside, the rain drums on.


End file.
